Just A Matter Of Time
by AndreaTash
Summary: Alex wonders how long it'll be until someone figures out his one weakness. No spoilers. One-shot drabble about Alex & Jack. Disclaimer: I don't own Alex Rider.


Hey guys! This is my first try at an AR fanfic. I've had an idea floating around for a while, involving Jack and Ian (those two make me wonder) but it's nowhere near finished - in time perhaps. This little nugget of an idea popped out from the clear blue sky and the inspiration spurred from a single sentence in another fanfic I read recently. The wheels in my head started spinning and this one-shot was born. I had to finish it and post it.

Now that it's done I can to my other story in progress.

Anyway, enjoy.

Toodles

AT

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**Just a Matter of Time**

The dream is generally the same, or at least, the central theme is the same. It's taken Alex almost two years of being MI6's puppet to finally figure out the pattern.

They don't come to him while he's on missions. It's something which at the beginning, Alex thought was rather puzzling. It's almost as if his subconscious knows that invoking the dreams during an operation would provide no benefit and could do nothing but hinder his chance at success, diminish his chance at survival. Apparently his mind believes he wouldn't be able to handle them then. No, the dreams come to him immediately _after_ the missions. When he finally finds himself at home. Exhausted, battered, irritable…but safe.

They go one of two ways and neither one is better than the other.

In some, he's been captured by the enemy and then tortured for information. He doesn't know who has him, the bad guy seems to be an amalgamation of all kinds of villanous sorts he's crossed paths with, but he can't be sure. In the typical hazy-like state of dreams the beginning is always fuzzy and he never knows how he comes to be there. He just finds himself sitting in what he's sure is a cell or an interrogation room. Heaven knows he's seen enough to recognise one straight away. He doesn't really know what they want from him and in the end it's really irrelevant. That's not what the dream is about anyway. Whatever it is they want, he resists divulging it. He refuses to yield and begins to feel superior. He's winning. Alex knows he's winning and they know it too.

But then his captors pull an ace out of their sleeve and the blood in his veins freeze.

Jack.

She's dragged over to sit in front of him and suddenly Alex doesn't feel so smug. She's so close he could touch her if his hands weren't tied behind him. Or chained. He doesn't really know. All he knows is that he struggles against his restraints to reach her, but it's in vain. He screams and screams for them to let her go. But his captor just smiles. Alex can't see his face but he knows for sure the man is smiling. He can feel it. He can hear it in his voice. He hears the triumph. He's enjoying this.

He threatens unspeakable things against her and tells Alex he'll make him watch.

Torture. Rape. Death.

She cries and Alex can't help but cry with her.

She tells him it's OK and begs him to not give them what they want.

Then Alex breaks. He tells them everything. He can't ever remember the words he speaks once he wakes, but he knows he gives in to them knowing full well they have no intention of letting him or Jack go.

Alex never sees the man move but he clearly sees the gun appear next to Jack's head, the barrel pressing against her temple. She gives him a watery smile then closes her eyes. Everything is silent for a moment before a deafening bang crackles through the room and the dream is over.

Alex wakes in a cold sweat from this dream. He gasps desperately for air and wonders if he'd been holding his breath the entire time. His scream gets caught behind the lump in his throat and all that comes out is a choked moan. He lays there for some time, with the sheets tangled around him until his breathing evens out and his heart rate slows down.

That's not the dream Alex had tonight.

Tonight he had the other dream. The one where his mission goes without a glitch and he comes home unhurt, glad to be back and eager to see her.

He walks through the front door of their home and the entire house is bathed in radiant sunlight. For a moment he could swear it's almost too bright but then he realises it's completely appropriate that this is where Jack would be. After all, that's what she is to him. Light.

There's more detail in this dream which Alex figures is probably because he's so much more familiar with this setting. His home. No, _their_ home. He can hear the birds outside. He can faintly hear the traffic humming. He can even hear the washing machine spinning away in the laundry room.

He calls out to her as he drops his bags by the door. He gets no reply, so he calls out to her again, louder this time. Birds. Traffic. Washing machine. But still no Jack.

His smile slowly fades and when he calls for her for the third time his voice is taut.

His feet lead him to the kitchen because somehow Alex knows that's where he'll find her. He hesitates for a second before walking in and then stops when he spots her.

She's usually sprawled across the kitchen floor, on her back with her glazed unseeing eyes staring up at the ceiling. Her skin is ghostly white and he can tell she's not breathing. Sometimes there's a small red circular wound on her forehead and a pool of drying blood by her head. Other times there's no blood but he can easily make out finger-shaped bruises around her neck. He rushes to her as the tears begin to cloud his vision and as his hand reaches out for her cold body he wakes up.

He doesn't wake up sweating or gasping from this dream. He wakes up in tears. Silent, free-flowing tears.

This particular dream disturbs him more than the other one. He wipes his cheeks with both his hands and swings his legs over the bed to land softly on the floor. He winces from the pain in his ribs and left knee as he stands up. This last mission almost left him in pieces.

He's been trained in all things stealth so his bare feet make no sound as he walks out of his room. He takes a few steps down the hallway to stand outside her open bedroom door and leans against her doorframe to watch her as she sleeps.

Alex remembers the first time he came by to check on her after one of these dreams. She'd woken up when he opened the door and for a brief moment she'd gasped in fright. When the fog from sleep cleared and she recognised him. She smiled groggily and softly asked him if everything was alright. He told her he was fine, he just couldn't' sleep and that he'd had a bad dream. She asked what it was about but didn't' push it when he said he didn't want to talk about it. After that night she always left her bedroom door open when she went to sleep at night.

He lets out a deep relieved breath because even though he already knew she was alive and safe, he's comforted to see it with his own eyes all the same. Her flaming hair is splayed across her pillow and her lips are slightly open as they pull at each corner. She smiles and Alex can't help but smile with her. He figures she's having a good, happy dream and clearly a very peaceful night's sleep.

Alex can't fault her for sleeping so peacefully when he can't. He saw the dark circles under her sunken eyes that afternoon when he came back from Kuala Lumpur. He noticed her pale, drawn face. The sheer joy when she set eyes on him, all her worry melting away. Alex knew she hardly slept while he was away. When he came back, when he was safe under her roof…that's when she could sleep in peace. It was different for him. During his missions he ran on pure adrenaline, it was when he finally came home that his body and mind crashed and the fears caught up with him.

Satisfied she's alive, unhurt and sleeping soundly he turns to leave, resisting the urge to wake her and give her a hug. It seems childish and foolish. Alex knows that tomorrow morning when he makes his way into the kitchen for breakfast, she will do just that. She will launch herself at him, throw her arms around him and squeeze for dear life. He'll hide the painful wince as his bruised ribs complain, he'll make a sarcastic remark about not being able to breathe, but deep down he'll relish the moment and commit it to memory.

He walks down the stairs and scouts the entire ground floor of their home. He knows MI6 has a security detail on the house. While he is home because they want their secret weapon secure, while he's on a mission because he demanded it. He made it abundantly clear to both Mr. Blunt and Mrs. Jones that if he's away on a mission for them, they bloody better make sure Jack is safe while he's gone.

Still, he walks to the front door and makes sure the lock is in place. He walks around to the windows and glances out onto the street, over the lawn, his eyes alert and missing nothing. Looking up at the sky he can see the night giving way to twilight. Reluctantly, he makes his way back up the stairs to his room, but not without a final look back towards Jack's sleeping form.

Every now and then he wishes she would just leave him. Find a boyfriend or even husband, move back to America and build a life of her own. Just so she can be safe, just so she can never be used against him. But most times he's immensely grateful she's decided to stand by him. Alex was already amazed that she'd stayed with him and Ian for almost ten years. Now he's in complete awe of her. After everything she now knows about his uncle, MI6 and him, she still stays. Without question. She is his rock. He wonders if it's ever even crossed her mind to walk away from all of it. From him.

Walking back to his room icy fear grips his chest again. She really is his entire world. It seems so inappropriate to call her his guardian, his housekeeper; though he only uses those titles in front of others, knowing it helps keep up the appearance of distance. Not many know their true bond. Mr. Blunt and Mrs. Jones do, obviously. That's why they can use her as blackmail. That's why there's a round-the-clock security detail around her. That's why their home is under constant surveillance. And still, he's not completely reassured with all their safety measures.

That's why he gets those dreams. It must be, he thinks. And he'll have another dream tomorrow night, and maybe even the next. After that he'll settle into his home routine with Jack, he'll go back to school, he'll catch up with Tom. His mind will ease back into some semblance of normalcy and he'll start sleeping through the whole night. Until they call him again. But Alex doesn't want to think about that yet. Right now his thoughts are on Jack.

His mother, his sister, his best friend. How long until someone discovers his one weakness? His identity is no real secret. It wouldn't be too hard to track him down and it'd be just as easy to figure out she's not just the housekeeper. He settles back down in his bed and with chilling dread asks himself, not if, but when will one of those dreams comes true? He always asks himself the same question and the answer is always the same.

Just a matter of time.

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Thanks for reading, guys. Please let me know what you thought. I know it's a little angsty, but that's kinda what I write.


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